


Secrets in the Shadows

by chaoticrepublic



Series: Cindered Shadows Collection [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Church Route, Not Beta Read, Silver Snow Route, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticrepublic/pseuds/chaoticrepublic
Summary: There were a host of many things that Byleth had never expected to do. She had already been strong-armed into becoming a Professor to the Black Eagle House. The Sword of the Creator had just been foisted onto her unsuspecting hands and now she had discovered a secret society hidden underneath Garreg Mach. Sucked into the woes of the Ashen Wolves, Byleth finds herself confronting certain truths earlier than she expected and wonders just how much of the church her father had shielded her from.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc & My Unit | Byleth
Series: Cindered Shadows Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661563
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Secrets in the Shadows

**Chapter One:** The Burden of Responsibility

**Verdant Rain Moon**

**Imperial Year 1179**

**Garreg Mach Monastery - Late Evening**

The candles in the Cardinal’s room had begun to flicker, as nightfall creeped over the monastery, the sun quietly fading away. It was hard to keep her attention inside, to the matter at hand, when the sky had tinged with brilliant hues of red and purple. The smell of the monsoons had started to creep into the cool evening air. The hearth was seen crackling yet not heard as official members of the Church of Seiros presented their various positions on the matter. The matter being, of course, Byleth herself.

The young professor had not fooled herself into believing that the evening would pass in peace after witnessing Seteth’s reaction to the news. Her head had felt heavy since her audience with the Archbishop and her condition had not improved in the days since. It was no surprise that her headache persisted as much as it did or that these officials felt similarly to the Archbishop’s most trusted advisor. Despite his many protests, however, he too was stood beside her, eyes resolute if a little resigned to the reality of their situation. She was stood to the left of the Archbishop, just as stoic and unmoving as the severe green-haired man. Small she might have been in stature, but Byleth stood tall with the discipline that had been beaten into her as a soldier; a mercenary. Sharp blue eyes flicked between the combatants of the room as each jumped at their opportunity to comment on the young professor or rather, as she had come to be known - rather unfortunately in Byleth’s mind - the wielder of the Sword of the Creator.

Looking at the scene, one might have been forced to wonder how the professor remained as unreadable as she did. A woman of few words, very little seemed to faze Byleth. To any that did not know her, as her father did, the hand on her newly acquired relic, would make her appear as a serpent did, when preparing to strike. The very picture of some mythological holy warrior Byleth thought with some amount of distaste. While the men and women in the room debated the meaning of the events that unfolded in the holy tomb, she was stuck remembering them with a great deal of disappointment. The lump in her throat was back again as she remembered the first time she had called on Sothis’ power since the incident in Remire Village. Perhaps, she ought to have been focused on the mystery of why the sword chose to awaken in her hands, but whenever she closed her eyes since the last moon, she saw only one thing. The swing of a hideously large scythe and the haunting echo of a scream from one of her students. The first mistake she had ever made since leading her young students into battle. The memory was such, that sometimes Byleth found herself agreeing with the Bishops in the room. What right had she, to wield such a fabled sword? One of her students had very nearly met their end in the Holy Mausoleum that night and as far as Byleth was concerned, the error was on her part. She should have known better than to leave Felix alone unsupervised.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius was one of her latest transfers, with a thirst to improve and a penchant for battle rivalled by no other. She had met mercenaries that came close but in Byleth’s mind, even they struggled to hold a candle to Felix in this regard. Perhaps it was the heat of combat or the rush of competition - which of the two, she had never been able to discern. Felix was so single-minded when it came to battle and it was that singularity that had almost cost him his life. Aside from feeling indignation at her student’s insubordination, there had been to everyone’s surprise: fear. Her students were far too young to die, and despite all their claims of prowess - they a lot greener than they would care to admit. Especially one, such as Felix. It was no surprise to Byleth that they were as such either - their innocence was one that could only have been borne out of the nobility they possessed. A great deal of them were sheltered before stepping foot in Garreg Mach. They had much to learn – a simple fact that some of her students struggled to understand at times. They were not much younger than her, so perhaps they might have found it condescending but most of them had never truly seen what it meant to take a life until a few short moons ago. They had not grasped how easy it was to die either until the night in the Holy Mausoleum either. She had tried to steer her students away from the buffoon running around dressed as some spectre or the other - yet Felix had run towards the ‘Death Knight’ very much in the same manner he had transferred to her class. Shortly and without ceremony. It had become painfully obvious that the young man was very much drawn to strength and driven by an insatiable thirst to conquer it.

The matter had been resolved quickly enough when she had seen Felix break rank, and despite her limited use of Sothis’ power, she had called on it easily. Four days after the incident, her students still puzzled over how swiftly their professor had reacted. Her dagger had flown from her hand cutting across Felix’s path, surprising him enough to make him stop in his tracks. The very next moment saw him gaping in surprise as a blow meant for him, buried itself in his professor’s shoulder. Despite her handicap she had subdued the knight with a deadly precision before he had turned tail, muttering nonsense about meeting his equal. It had made Byleth’s skin crawl. The events that followed after had been translated into folk lore in a matter of hours as every breathing soul on the monastery grounds knew what happened next.

Her students had been staring at her in awe as an ancient relic glowed fiery in her hands. Yet, in a fashion that was unique to their beloved professor, instead of addressing the unpredictable turn of events, she had merely turned to Felix and given him a sharp dressing down. What followed was a five minute lecture on the importance of teamwork on the battlefield. They say, that was how the knights had found them: Byleth, in the midst of doling out punishment to her best swordsman. Catherine was said to have tried to interrupt the professor in doling out said punishment, and everyone was surprised that the holy knight had fallen silent when put on the receiving end of Byleth’s unimpressed gaze.

Her punishment, one had to admit, was unendingly clever. As Felix had abandoned his position as Lysithea’s close range protector, Byleth had only thought it fair that he be relegated to extra hours of studying reason magic alone – far from the comfort of his sword - to better understand the plight of his comrades. Felix had taken the punishment with a passing hint of being humbled - and her Eagles had been struck mute by the rare show of emotion from their professor. At the very least, it had instilled a great sense of respect for their leader. For they had gone from having a Professor who turned tail at the sight of danger to having one who by all appearances would have willingly died for them should the need arise.

Sothis had not felt similarly.

As it turned out, Byleth was not very vocal about her pain either, so when her Eagles had realized that their professor was injured, all hell had broken loose before they rushed her to the infirmary. Byleth had managed the driest of smiles as Linhardt – perhaps her most disengaged student - had fretted over her wound. It was amongst this chaos, that Sothis had decided to begin her reprimanding of Byleth. She bore it all however, with a strange warmth in her chest in seeing her students, safe from the line of danger. It was sufficient to say, she felt no regret at her decision. It was becoming clear with each passing day, that the more time she spent with the students, the more emotionally invested and expressive she had become. Her father had commented on it as well, with a wistfulness in his voice that she could not quite recognize.

The problem with becoming more expressive, however was the flurry of emotion that seemed almost overwhelming at times. Perhaps, it was the constant onslaught of disorienting circumstances that was tugging adamantly at her fraying patience that made her feel as irate as she was. She had been strong-armed into the job of a professor, which she had accepted with little complaint when she had seen her father’s grim countenance. While she had taken an unexpected shine to becoming an instructor, Byleth really wanted to draw the line at being propped up as a prominent figure within the church. As always, she was swept away by Rhea nonetheless. Jeralt had been just as helpless as the first time, as he watched the matter unfold right before he was dispatched on his next mission. He had left with a strong squeeze on her shoulder, unspoken words of comfort flitting between them before he left without a backward glance, lost deeply in his own mind. His words echoed freshly in her mind, when he had muttered them to her quietly their very first day at the monastery.

_“Watch out for Lady Rhea…She may be up to something. Stay on your guard.”_

The goodbye between father and daughter only seemed to reiterate those words – especially when they had seen how eager the Archbishop had been to foist the cursed sword on to Byleth. Lost in her thoughts as she was, she couldn’t stop the slight pursing of her lips. There was only one person she had ever trusted - that was her father. She would be a fool not to heed his warning. In the beginning, her father’s supposed secrets confused her but as the events of the past moon had unfolded, Byleth was beginning to understand that perhaps the reason for Jeralt’s secrets was far more tangible than she had realized. Her eyes fell on Rhea, as she spoke - her voice serene and lilting, it pulled the arguing bishops into silence. The entire room seemed to lean in to listen as she spoke for what seemed, the first time that evening. “The professor,” she began, her glimmering eyes sweeping the room, “was chosen, by our creator herself. No one ordinary could have picked up that sword and exercised its true power the way she did.”

What Rhea had said, did not strike the same chord of hesitation in Byleth as it seemed to with the other clergymen in the room. One of the braver Bishops sought to say his piece first, and Byleth vaguely marvelled if this was the sort of inane commentary that dominated all discussions surrounding matters of the church, how these people ever got anything done. “Archbishop, the sword is a holy artifact. Chosen or no, the…professor, is not even a Holy Knight of the Church of Seiros. Add to that, she has spent her whole life as a mercenary,” he finished, as though the title ‘mercenary’ had filthy connotations to it. He had hastily cast Byleth a sidelong glance that inflected a hint of fear, and Byleth wondered if she truly looked so terrifying that he genuinely thought she would cut him down without fear of any retribution.

“ _These people seem rather outraged, yet strange as it is, what good will that new weapon of yours do locked away beneath the ground? Shouldn’t such power be valued?_ ”

Byleth resisted the urge to snort out loud. “ _I might’ve thought you’d think me unworthy of wielding such an artifact._ ”

“ _You are a host of many things_ ,” Sothis answered primly, almost sounding offended. “ _Unworthy is not one of them. The fact that you are able to wield that sword as you are, should be proof enough. Though I will not deny, the whole situation is rather mysterious._ ”

“Dear ones,” Rhea began, her voice coaxing, “the goddess chooses only with the heart and will in mind. During her time here, the professor has proven herself again and again. Her devotion and protection of the students has been steadfast, and her deeds versatile.” Before anyone could interrupt Rhea again, she continued, her voice unaffected by the pleading, “One needs to only see her wield the sword to know, she does so as if she were born to do it.” Byleth had to admit, the certainty with which Rhea spoke, almost convinced her of the same. The archbishop was right to some degree - the sword felt like it was an extension of Byleth’s own body. As if she had been reunited with something that she had been missing and hadn’t even realized it. Yet the circumstances surrounding the ordeal were nothing short of strange. The crest stone was missing, yet she was able to wield the sword all the same. Something that should have been, by all accounts: impossible.

Byleth supposed she had better familiarize herself with such a concept. Her very existence seemed to deny all realms of possibility. Here she was, getting chastised by a child that sounded painfully older than she appeared. She was devoid of all her memories and knew only two things – she had call on time itself and that somehow, she was connected to Byleth. Perhaps the new knowledge in their arsenal was, perhaps the reason Byleth could wield the sword as she did was due to Sothis’ existence in her mind. Byleth was enough of an anomaly at the monastery - reserved, deadly and the daughter of a former Knight-Captain of Seiros. The only thing the wretched sword did, was distinguish her more and the added flurry of attention was not something she wanted, nor needed. 

“I agree with the Archbishop,” a new voice intoned, interrupting Byleth’s line of thought. A bishop from one of the neighbouring regions, perhaps. “The Professor comes from good stock after all – from the Blade Breaker himself,” she finished with an air of having settled the matter. Byleth struggled not to make a face at that. “ _Father was right,”_ she thought, “ _The church likes to pretend they’re different from the haughtier nobles – but they’re just as much a pain in their own way.”_

The back and forth continued on for some time and Byleth found herself itching to go to the training grounds to fight out her irritation. Something was about to happen – she had no idea what, but an unpleasant feeling had settled itself into her gut. Her father had always attributed her strange sixth sense to her fighting ability – those were the instincts of a true soldier, he had said. It was what prevented her from sustaining any life-threatening injuries in all her long years of having been a mercenary. While the feeling had served Byleth well, she found herself wishing it didn’t exist at all if only to abate the sense of dread – an emotion most unfamiliar to her.

“Well, it’s decided then,” Seteth declared with an imperious finality only he could have managed. “The professor will retain the sword, and to alleviate all doubts on her proficiency, it will be the Black Eagle House that will recover the Lance of Ruin for House Gautier.” Byleth’s neck snapped to the advisor, in mild surprise. Perhaps she ought to have paid more attention to the meeting. Seteth merely raised an eyebrow, having realized she was not listening to a word of what had been said. “What say you, professor?” he stressed her title in a way that very much indicated that she was being chastised. Byleth merely nodded, her face giving nothing away. “Understood,” Byleth affirmed, seeing her opportunity to leave the deliriously tedious congregation, she addressed Rhea, “Archbishop, I would like to take my leave. I need to see to my students and re-group with my house leader.”

Rhea smiled, her sea-foam coloured eyes softening. “Of course. Thank you for your time, Professor.”

Byleth restrained the impulse to sprint out the room that was beginning to feel claustrophobic with the number of eyes on her. She had just closed the door when her ears piqued to the clumsy scurrying occurring just around the corner. Byleth sighed in knowing exasperation – _of course._ “Don’t hide now, you’ll only look more foolish,” she warned, striding towards the faculty corridor. What she found was a combination of students that was simultaneously surprising yet not entirely unexpected. All three house leaders rushing to stand to attention with mirrored looks of sheepishness plastered on their faces. “Curious, are we?” the professor asked, only a hint of amusement betraying her. A hint so subtle however, that perhaps all three of them missed it.

“Teacher,” Edelgard spoke up first, and clearly with purpose. “I was just telling Claude that perhaps it would be unsightly for a house leader caught spying on an official meeting he was not invited to.” There was a familiar hint of irritation in Edelgard’s voice that only seemed to make an appearance around three people, namely: Ferdinand, Linhardt and of course the leader of the Golden Deer, Claude Von Riegan. Byleth nodded, unaffected as she turned her gaze to Dimitri who seemed to pink almost immediately under her scrutiny. “I…Forgive me Professor, I found myself persuaded by Claude to stay.” When Byleth’s eyebrow shot up in mild surprise, the leader of the Blue Lions rushed to elaborate, “I only mean that I… we were all worried about you!” Blue eyes finally met a sparkling green and Claude only offered her a grin almost as mischievous as he was. “Well now Teach, I think that about sums it up. I personally was just intrigued and decided to do us all a public service – nay an act of charity-,” he began, before Byleth cut him off with her hand.

“That’s enough excitement for tonight – all three of you should be back in the dormitories, we received our assignments over an-”, Byleth broke off, her attention snapping to the Cardinal’s room again. There was someone else listening as well. Given the way the presence seemed to slink about, Byleth ventured a guess that it was unwelcome. Her eyes narrowed, as she walked past them to the staircase leading downstairs. “Follow,” was all she said, as her right hand found the sword strapped on her hip. The three merely looked at her back disappearing, bewildered before rushing to catch up with their instructor.

***

It seemed the reigning theme of the day had been chaos. Byleth had rushed after the person slinking around the shadows of the monastery. Given all that had unfolded during the Rite of Rebirth, one couldn’t be too careful – especially if that one, was Byleth. Shortly after she had made it to the dormitories, the man had all but disappeared into thin air, and it irked her that her cherished window of uninterrupted training was now farther away than before. Edelgard, Claude and Dimitri had managed to catch up in the end and were now stood behind their professor speculating on the origins of their apparent intruder. Hilda and Linhardt who had just left their seminar with Professor Manuela, were trying their utmost at escaping from the newest prospect of work, while Ashe who had followed them, had volunteered his services without a second thought. She closed her eyes, trying to phase out the bickering of her students so that she could decide on her plan of action.

“Quiet,” she said, tilting her face to the side. All six of them fell silent immediately. Strange as she might have been to those around her, but there was no denying the authority her voice carried among her students. “It’s one intruder. He’s unlikely to have many reinforcements. That being said…” she trailed off, her eyes quietly assessing each one of them. “No wandering off,” she addressed Claude and Linhardt- the former had the grace to look somewhat sheepish, “and no charging ahead either,” she addressed the rest, thought she had to admit it was mostly Edelgard and Dimitri that she was speaking to then. “Stick close together, the visibility looks to be poor. I don’t want any of you getting hurt during something routine.” She drew her sword then, and it seemed all the air had left the general vicinity of her students as she did. She raised an eyebrow. “Prepare yourselves.”

***

_“Well, what have we here? Some lost kids stumbling around in the dark. Stay a while, won’t you?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first foray into fanfiction - after a break from writing for almost 5 years. Guess that's how excellent of a game Three Houses is - it made me want to write again.
> 
> Please be kind with your comments. 
> 
> I really enjoyed the Cindered Shadows DLC and all the characters we got with it. My house of choice has typically been Golden Deer mostly because I adore one (1) snarky boi who is most definitely from Fodlan and not Almyra. For the purpose of this, however, I'm leaning towards a Silver Snow route mostly because I want to explore the kind of dynamic Byleth and Yuri would have given that Edelgard and everyone's favourite tech theatre looking, local evil man Hubert yeet themselves out of the house. I hope you take some enjoyment in my additions to the Cindered Shadows story (and possibly to exploring more of the Silver Snow route in its entirety). May we all thirst after Clown Shoes McGee Yuri Leclerc together.


End file.
